New York Times / January 16, 2004 / Jon Pareles Taraf de Haidouks: A Romanian Gypsy Ensemble Gives New Meaning to Vivace Oompah went haywire in the music of Taraf de Haidouks, the Romanian Gypsy band that played a sold-out show at Zankel Hall on Friday night. The group, from the town of Clejani near Bucharest, hurtled through tunes at speeds that would make bluegrass bands blink and then, when it felt like it, even accelerated from there. Every so often the pace would slow down so that a band member could sing a song that had the Romani speakers in the audience chuckling: tales of cheating husbands, unsatisfied wives and a longing for the elixir of youth. The band features three generations of musicians, none willing to take it easy. The elder band members, the singers Dumitru Baicu and Ilie Iorga, danced when they weren't singing. The oompah in the music came from Ion Tanase on cimbalom, a hammered dulcimer with notes as weighty as a piano's bass register, and from Viorel Vlad on bass fiddle. Above them, up to three accordionists (Ionel Manole, Marin Manole and another Marin Manole), two violinists (Paul Guiclea and Constantin Lautaru), a clarinetist (Filip Ankov Simeonov) and a flutist (Gheorghe Falcaru) shared the tunes, with Mr. Falcaru sometimes tootling a faster obbligato on his pennywhistlelike flute. Like an Irish band playing a set of reels or jigs, they strung together melody after melody, each more daredevil than the last. The tunes weren't simple. They darted and zigzagged with built-in trills and precisely stuttered repeating notes. There were quieter bits of virtuosity, too, as when Mr. Lautaru plinked fast pizzicato notes on the fingerboard of his fiddle. It was party music: dance tunes from across Eastern Europe and the Balkans with hints of points beyond, and songs that turned laments into comedy. From the history of oppression and expulsion that the Gypsies, or Roma, have faced, they salvaged the music of all the places they traversed. In its set Taraf de Haidouks played dance melodies rooted in Romania like sirbas and horas, dipped into odd-meter tunes that could have been Bulgarian or Macedonian and hinted at Greek and Turkish music. When Mr. Iorga sang a high, quivering lead vocal, his voice held airy inflections from India, where the Roma originated centuries ago. The music hurtled through history and across national borders as fast as fingers could fly. Audience members clapped but couldn't keep up. During an encore Taraf de Haiduks decided to leave melody behind for a moment, and the hall was filled with the twitters and squawks and braying of a barnyard: a little jest before the next breakneck excursion.

Evening Standard / January 29, 2002 / by Tim Cooper Johnny and the outlaws take Hackney by storm (...) It is not every day you find a Hollywood star slumming it in the East End. But last night Johnny Depp came to present his favourite band with a trophy at Radio 3's inaugural World Music Awards. The actor flew in to hand a prize to an obscure Romanian folk group who usually play weddings and funerals, Taraf de Haïdouks ( Band of Outlaws). He first met the band two years ago when they played his gipsy family in The Man Who Cried, by film-maker Sally Potter. He has become such a fan that he flew them to Los Angeles to play at his club, The Viper Room, to mark the release of his film Sleepy Hollow. Last night at the Ocean nightspot he described them as « the greatest musicians I know ». (...) « The guys can play a music which expresses the most intense joy, » said Depp. « They have this gift to make you feel alive. They're among the most extraordinary people I've ever met. »

The Guardian / January 30, 2002 / (...) Taraf de Haïdouks played what sounded like a rhythmic east European country shuffle, followed by a wild and frantic work-out featuring duelling violins, accordions and the dulcimer-like cimbalom.

The Financial Times / January 30, 2002 / Melting pot meets rock glitter (...) they have served as catwalk models for fashion designer Yohji Yamamoto, but appeared on this occasion to be favouring the Bucharest branch of Help the Aged. But when they swung into top gar, violins racing into overdrive, skating on a sheet of cymbalom, the audience roared. Johhny Depp, presenting their prize, called them the greatest musicians in the world and no one quibbled.

The Independant / June 8, 2001 / by Michael Church Incredible string band / the quintessence of Balkan musical fire (...) their repertoire seems inexhustible, their variations infinite. The show is a gorgeous blur of singhts - flying hammers, fingers flickering over keyboards - and sounds, as solo after solo takes off above the sweet miasma of the cimbalom.

The Times / June 7, 2001 / by Clive Davis Taraf de Haïdouks : Lyric, Hammersmith (...) Though they still struggle for acceptance at home - anti-Romany sentiment dies hard in the post-Ceausescu era - the players from the village of Clejani deserve every ounce of the acclaim that they have won over the past decade. Even playing without amplification they generate a maelstrom of intricately tangled violins and accordions. An accoustic performance, in fact, brings the sound into even sharper focus.

Scope Le Figaro / May, 2001 / by Piere Grenard La frénésie tzigane (...) Voici dix ans que le Taraf de Haïdouks, la joyeuse bande musicale de Cléjani, est sorti de l'anonymat grâce au film 'Gadjo Dilo' suivi de plusieurs disques et concerts. Depuis, la quinzaine de membres du Taraf parcourt les scènes européennes déclenchant sur son passage la ferveur et la frénésie d'un public pris sous le feu d'un galop roulant de violons fiévreux, d'accordéons fous et de cymbalums déchaînés.

Los Angeles Weekly / March, 2001 / by Tom Cheyney (...) It's rare for a cultural treasure like Taraf de Haïdouks to come to town, so open your self-absorbed selves to these Roma thieves of the heart.

Les Inrockuptibles / 2001 / by Olivier Bailly Bande originale (...) A Clejani, en Roumanie, dans le quartier nommé la Tsiganie, la densité de musiciens au mètre carré est plus élévée que celle des banquiers à Wall Street. Il y a dix ans environ que, issus de familles musiciennes 'rivales', les meilleurs d'entre eux (pas les banquiers, les musiciens) se sont rassemblés en un all stars exceptionnel : le Taraf de Haïdouks. Mais doit-on encore présenter cette formation soutenue depuis toujours par le label belge Crammed Discs, popularisée par le cinéaste Tony Gatlif (et dont les musiciens ajoutent malicieusement qu'ils ont permis de populariser le cinéaste) ? La musique de cette joyeuse bande est celle d'une aventure épique dont les héros, les Haïdouks, étaient prémonitoirement définis ainsi par l'écrivain Panaït Istrati : « Ce sont les hommes-écho : tout résonne en eux ! Ils entendent, la nuit, le cri de la chair humaine mordue par la férocité du plaisir ; le jour, ils sursautent avec tous les corps entaillés par la bestiale peine du travail qu'on n'aime pas. » Si le Taraf continue de nourrir avec bonheur cette imagerie, il le fait comme ambassadeur d'un peuple lucide quant à sa présence sur cette terre d'Europe centrale.

The Scotsman / January 3, 2001 / (...) Haïdouks' alchemy is extraordinary : with the aid of voices, violins, accordians, and cimbloms the interweave sounds from Hungary, Turkey and Arabia. The key is their astonishing blend of wild emotion and artistic virtuosity. Their singing is at once hard and sweet; their rhythms catch the ear off-balance, while maintaining a powerful momentum. And their harmonic shifts make the brain reel : bet not even to try an analysis of the structure - just let the magic work.

Chicago Tribune / March 18, 2001 / by Bill Meyer (...) The band was formed in 1991 by two Belgian ethnic music fans, who are their managers. Michel Winter and Stepane Karo came to Clejani days after the fall of dictator Nicolai Ceausescu, and fell so in love with the music they heard that they formed a band from the town's best musicians. Karo not only fell for the music ; he is married to the sister of one of the musicians, which makes him part of their clan.

Libération / January 2, 2001 / by Hélène Lee Le CD rom du Taraf (...) Après dix ans d'existence et plus de mille concers, le Taraf a conservé sa flamme, et son inspiration transcende le pittoresque. Comme Cesaria Evora, il a su échapper aux pièges de la World Music et à sa douce décadence. (...) En dix ans, au lieu de s'encrasser comme beaucoup d'autres grosses machines, le Taraf a appris à se muer en sous-groupes inventifs, les vieux goualant les ballades à pleurer, les jeunes impulsant des diables de rythmiques. L'an dernier, l'adjonction d'un virtuose de cymbalum de Bucarest, a élargi la porte vers l'impro jazzy - mais le jazz n'est-il pas tsigane ? Certains, ici, le prétendent.

Le Nouvel Observateur / January, 2000 / (...) Ces voix rugueuses, intenses, ces embardées de violons et d'accordéons, l'emballement des rythmes déclenchent des vagues d'émotion incontrôlables : la musique de l'Orchestre des Bandits d'Honneur, composé de Tsiganes roumains du village de Cléjani, a quelque chose de magique. En elle dort une puissance inconnue qui a fasciné cinéastes (on les vit dans 'Latcho Drom' de Tony Gatlif, ils figureront dans 'The Man Who Cried' de Saly Potter), chorégraphes (Pina Bausch les invita à Wuppertal) et musiciens (Menuhin, le Kronos Quartet les 'pousse' aux Etats-Unis).

BBC Music / June, 1998 / Dumbala Dumba (...) No less energy radiates from the much-hyped Taraf de Haïdouks, a group from Romania catapulted into the worldwide spotlight by their Belgian producers. The silly introductory track with running motors and barking dogs soon gives way to everybody's favourite 'gypsy' band, complete with swaying rhythms, swirling cymbaloms, and the febrile violin virtuosity that Enescu smoothed up for classical concert purposes, totally infectious as usual.

The Boston Globe / March, 1998 / Romania's dancing outlaws (...) TheGypsy music of Taraf de Haïdouks reaches the world. Anyone who saw the film 'Latcho Drom' will remember this taraf, or band, which appears at a rural railway junction, playing wild music that fuses Eastern and Western influences in a uniquely Balkan blend. The ultimate in Eastern European roots music.

Le Monde / May 1998 / (...) Le Taraf a parcouru l'Europe dans tous les sens, sans pour autant sortir tout à fait de la condition misérable réservée aux tsiganes d'Europe centrale. Habitués des quêtes après-concert, de la vente des violons à la sortie, le Taraf est une sorte de grande famille de frères ennemis, menée par des anciens, tel Nicolae Neacsu, édenté sous un chapeau immémorial, et capable de tirer des larmes aux midinettes sur ce crin laissé pendant au violon, qui sonne comme une gorge rauque.

Stage / June, 1998 / (...) De 'Gypsy Lautari' (traditionele zigeunermuzikanten) zetten hun wereldwijde triomftocht verder. De Taraf de Haïdouks - ooit ontdekt door twee Belgen, Stéphane Karo en Michel Winter die hen aan het Cram World-label voorstelden - zijn bescheden virtuozen variërend in leeftijd van twintig tot tachtig, die een enorme dosis energie en speelplezier op onze met momenten blasé-oren loslaten. (...) Wanneer deze Haïdouks op temperatuur komen, swingen ze als beesten en wat ze ook spelen, hun muziek is zwanger van warmte, intimiteit en poëzie.

Time Out / March-April, 1997 / by David Hutcheon (...) The fiddles sound as if they are being played inside out ; the rhythm section is playing a different tune; the lads on accordion have never met before and the cymabalom player is doing his own thing. Somehow, it all holds together, almost sounding deliberate on occasion.

Les Inrockuptibles / 1994 / by Francis Dordor Gitans sans filtre (...) Telle une herbe folle, résistante à tous les défoliants historiques - guerres, régimes totalitaires, ségrégation - la culture tzigane a toujours su faire preuve d'une formidable capacité de survie. (...) Nicolae Neacsu et Ion Manole ont immortels. Ils conjuguent leurs parcours respectifs pour nous apporter la preuve du génie de la survie qui squatte depuis toujours les gènes de ce peuple trapéziste. A Cléjani, être bon musicien ne suffit pas. Il faut aussi incarner un personnage, prêter au répertoire que l'on honore les reflets de sa propre vie, ou bien celle que l'on s'est inventée dans des bavardages chauffés à l'alcool de prune. La vérité ne sera toujours, à leurs yeux, que la manière convaincante de présenter sa version personnelle des choses.

Gramophon / 1994 / by Simon Broughton (...) One of the most rewarding experiences the so-called 'World music' boom has brought over the last few years has been the chance to hear on record, and in the flesh, the sounds that inspired such composers as Bartok, Szymanowski and Enescu. The Romanian gypsy group Taraf de Haïdouks bring some of the most remarkable of these sounds, their sinewy, passionate music hailing from Clejani, their village set in the distant plains of Wallachia. Since their first appearance abroad in 1991 they have conquered audiences of both festivals and concert-halls.